I tuck into a ball and hide in a bubble of protection I don’t want to leave. But is it enough? Will it split like an egg as they fall through the roof and tear me limb from limb?
I wonder if I’ll bleed the same color as the others, or if something inky will leak from my severed bits?
Will the monsters chew on me like they chewed on the boy with a face freckled with stars? The one who reaches for me in the darkest corner of my dreams ...
I hide, go elsewhere in my mind, someplace I can’t smell the lingering scent of agony. But I can still hear the scratching, like something sharp is being dragged down a dinner plate over and over and over and—
A honed sound powers out of me, the tapered edge a spade forged from the fragments of my pain ... and I dig, shoveling velvet nothing. Forming a chasm that grows and grows until it feels eternal.
Something is following. Slithering after me. Watching me work.
My throat hurts, and still that chasm grows while I scream and scream and scream, digging down, down, down ... deep into the core of my mind.
Like a seed, I plant my hurt at the bottom of the gully, cover it with dirt, and pat it into place.
My relief is instant.
It’s gone. Buried in a ravine so dark and vast that light will never cast a ribbon of life onto that wretched seed. Won’t let it shoot up and show my colors in a bloom born of death.
My scream tapers off ...
Their sounds are gone. So are their howls.
There’s nothing but bone-chilling silence, but I’m cold. My heart is ice. One tap from a chisel and I’ll shatter—
I feel myself being pulled from the mattress, settled against something hard and wet, like silk-wrapped stone.
Opening my eyes, I see the edge of Rhordyn’s jaw through a curtain of tears. Realize I’m tucked against his chest, screaming, the sound a rusty rasp that tastes like blood.
I let the knowledge of where I am settle, smelling the deep, earthen musk of his scent. Usually a comfort.
Right now, it’s the opposite.
I’m sizzling. My head feels like it’s about to burst. There’s an ache between my legs that’s going to kill me—an emptiness I can’t shake no matter how much I roll my hips.
I try to speak, and his grip tightens when all that comes out is a curdled cry for help.
“I’m here. You’re okay.”
I’m not.
“M-my head,” I force out, something warm and wet dribbling from my nose, down my chin.
“Fuck.”
Rhordyn lifts me, holding me close while he carries me through the balcony doors. A blanket of falling droplets drench us both, and he sits on my sodden balcony, settling me between strong thighs so my back is resting on his chest.
I can feel his breaths—in and out.
Vaguely aware that my split robe is baring my breasts, I close my eyes, waiting for the crying clouds to tame the pressure in my head. The ember in my core.
Rhordyn eases me forward, removes his shirt, then settles me against his bare skin that’s cold as slate. He covers me with fabric that’s wet, heavy ...
Oppressive.
“No,” I rasp, clawing at it. “No, no, no ...”
I don’t need to cover my body. I need to expose it.
